


Once More With Feeling

by InkDomain



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Character Death, F/M, Female pronouns, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Obsessive Love Disorder, Supernatural Elements, Time Loop, Yandere, Yandere Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13487559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkDomain/pseuds/InkDomain
Summary: Levi had been diagnosed with Obsessive Love Disorder a few months into your relationship becoming serious, however you still loved him and agreed to marry him. Lately, his medication has been loosing its effectiveness in his treatment, and his behaviour is deteriorating.





	Once More With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my deviantART (OperationStabTheCake).  
> Not proof read.  
> Shingeki no Kyojin belongs to Hajime Isayama.   
> Inspired by two-sentence horror story prompts: Brushing my teeth, I see my reflection is using the wrong hand, so I run out and see my husband watching TV with me. Then I remember he smothered me in my sleep, and I’m stuck in a loop of reliving my last night alive.

Blood rushed through your veins as the adrenaline kicked in, pumping in your ears so it was all that you could hear next to the overpowering beat of your heart thumping heavily against your chest. Sitting up too fast, your head spins along with the room and its contents until you cradled your head in your hands and forced yourself to become orientated. With your lips slightly parted, you exhaled in sharp and ragged breaths, only resulting in a continuation of the burning in your lungs. When your occipital lobes had reorganised itself with your optic nerves and the rest of your eyes, you peeked through the cracks of your fingers. Darting your vision from each area of your bedroom, your brain attempted to locate the reason for the triggering of your flight or fight response. 

A light sheen of sweat coated your body as your limbs began to shake from the rush of adrenaline flooding your veins, your eyes focusing on the illuminated numerals of your alarm clock resting on top of your bedside table. It read 7:38 am, marking the early morning of Saturday, the sun had not even begun to creep under the closed curtains of your bedroom. Unsure of why you had woken from your dreams in such an alarmed state, your body jerked slightly as there was a slight movement from beside you. Your head whips towards the movement in the fraction of a second, ease granted to you for a miniscule of a moment when you recognise the mop of messy ebony black hair strewn across the white pillowcase. You check to see if you had woken your sleeping husband, watching intently at his bare chest to watch the pattern of the rise and fall to determine whether he was still asleep or not. 

Even in sleep he was breath-taking, his pale skin akin to virgin snow, stark against the darkness of his hair. The bedsheets covered from his mid-waist down, the glint from his wedding band catches your eye. Understanding that the chance of you returning to sleep was slim, you cautiously peel back the bedsheets from your form, and you remove yourself from the bed as carefully as you could to avoid disturbing Levi. Your bare feet land on the soft carpet that covered your bedroom floor, making your toes curl slightly at the bitter cold of the home. The mattress slightly creaks underneath you as you remove your weight, your nightgown sliding down around your legs from its previous bunched-up state. Leaving behind the comfort and warmth of your bed and husband, you pad towards the en-suite bathroom and turn on the light. 

Shutting the door behind you to block out the light, avoiding the potential of waking Levi, you then stretch your arms above your head to stretch the muscles in your shoulder blades and the nape of your neck. Pulling the skin over the muscle, you let out a small noise of appreciation at the slight pressure that accumulates there before releasing. Tucking your hair behind your ears and out of the way, you take your space in front of the sink and turn on the tap. Water pours out and splashes against the ceramic of the wash basin, becoming slightly mesmerised by the swirl of the water. You break the hypnosis, taking your toothbrush that waited patiently in its holder on the marble counter, wetting the bristles under the small stream of water. Running a layer of toothpaste over the bristles, you bring it to your mouth and begin your morning routine. 

Finishing off the task, you place the toothbrush back in its place, then turn off the tap and kill the stream of water. Before opening the door, you turn off the light to the bathroom that is connected to the master bedroom. You close your eyes, allow yourself to become adjusted to the darkness, then open them along with the door. After stepping back into the bedroom, you freeze in place by the door when you see the silhouette of Levi sitting up in bed. His head is tilted towards you, but you are unable to see if he’s looking at you with his grey orbs that contain a storm. He raises his arm, the pigment of his skin almost making him seem as though he was shining in the darkness of the room, and he beckons you over with the motion of a finger. You do as he silently instructs, following his orders as you cross the room to curl next to him. As soon as one knee dips the bed below you, his arms have wrapped around your form and you are easily manoeuvred to be encaged by his body. Your vision is blocked by the expanse of his chest, the slight pain of his chin atop the crown of your head keeping you aware that he is in control.  
“Why are you awake?” He demands rather than asks, voice deep from the short time of being awake, rough around the edges with a combination of tiredness and irritation.  
“I had a bad dream.” You tell him, pressing your forehead against the dip between his pectorals to feel the steady beat of his heart. He lets out a grunt of acknowledgement, the vibration running through your body as though you were tuning it. He easily falls back into his slumber with his powerful grip continuing to keep you caged against him, leaving you to take a moment to enjoy moments like this. 

Levi had been diagnosed with OLD; Obsessive Love Disorder. In the beginning of your romantic relationship, his love had transferred into delusional jealousy, an obsession for you- including a terrible need to be near you. There were times where it became unbearable, recently his disorder had transformed into an abnormal belief that someone would take you form him, and in turn, he had started to lock you in the house when he could not be with you. His medication kept him in line, but the pills were running low, and you were scared for what might happen if you leave the house without his permission. Moments like this made you think back to the beginning of your relationship, before the disorder, when you were just an average couple. You still loved him, despite his issues, your wedding ring reminds you of this every day. 

Hours later, when it was a more appropriate time, Levi wakes you with a kiss to your lips and you begin your daily routine. You detach from one another, whilst he shuts himself in the bathroom and you hear the familiar noises from the shower starting and being used, you make the bed. You dress and head downstairs, greeted to your modern and impeccably clean kitchen that was kept to Levi’s cleaning standards. Levi had errands to run today, so you got started on his cooked breakfast and making his tea exactly the way he liked it. You kept yourself busy, immersed in preparing breakfast to a standard that would be acceptable. Plating the food perfectly, you take his plate and mug, and turn to the spotless cooking island that served as a breakfast table. 

Levi sits there watching your every move, silently observing you as you bustle around preparing breakfast- ready to serve him first. Your body jerks with surprise when you see him calmly sat at the breakfast table, dressed to go out and face emotionless. The plate shakes slightly, nudging everything that had been perfectly placed. The mug shakes, tea almost spilling over the edge, threatening to spill onto the floor. You stare at each other for what had only been a few seconds in reality, but felt like eternity, before you cleared your throat and put on a smile. You place his plate and mug in front of him, remembering that he needed to take his medication with his food. Going to the cupboard where you kept one of the first aid boxes, you remove the small yellow prescription bottle with the white cap, and limited amount of pills inside. 

Timidly placing the box away, you remove the cap of the bottle and turn to your husband. You knew he hated taking his medication, refused to accept such a crippling disorder, but he needed it to help keep him stable. He was never violent, there were times where he had almost raised his hand to you, but he had broken through the delusion and stopped himself. Placing yourself on the opposite side of him, keeping the cooking island between you as a safety precaution, you lean forward to place the bottle next to his mug. Before you could fully blink, his hand had lurched forward and wrapped his digits around your wrist. The automatic response of a small gasp leaves you as Levi keeps you in a forceful grip, fear filling your eyes as his fingers increase their pressure and dig themselves into your skin. Knees buckling under the aura that emitted from Levi, you tried to understand where you had gone wrong. You waited without asking, in an obvious state of distress as Levi wordlessly sips his tea. 

When he finally raises his eyes to lock with yours, you cautiously held his gaze in an attempt to understand. The calm before the storm reflected back to you from the depths of his eyes, burning holes into your soul for a millisecond before he blinks. Breaking the trance, the pressure on your wrist eases slightly, but you daren’t move without his permission.  
“[F/N], dear, we talked about this.” He tells you, voice flat and void of emotion. It made your blood run cold, you couldn’t understand anything from him. His eyes were empty, but you knew they harboured emotions that were too complex and interwoven to even attempt to decipher.  
“I-I’m sorry, sweetheart, I forgot, p-please.” You plead, voice cracking slightly as your hand flexes in an attempt to get feeling back into the fingers and joints. He leans forward over the counter, his free hand reaching out towards you. With the delicacy of handling fine china, he tucks your hair behind your ear before brushing his knuckles against the expanse of your cheek. He smoothed his knuckle over the skin, giving you a small pet, then retracts fully. Letting go of your hand, he takes his pills and finishes off the prescription.  
“We’ll discuss this later.” He tells you, a warning for what could happen when he gets home, but you are safe for now. 

Staying where you are with your free hand wrapped around your injured wrist, the throb under the skin letting you know that bruises would definitely form by tomorrow. You watch him leave the kitchen, his breakfast barely touched, the yellow prescription bottle now empty. You flinch when you hear him walk away, followed by the opening and closing of the front door. Shortly after, the familiar sound of the only key to the front door slips into the lock, the clinking of the locks fills your ears to reinforce that you were locked in the house. When your legs no longer felt like they would buckle under your weight, and when your spine no longer felt like jelly, you fell back into routine and began with the household chores. Time dragged by until Levi returned home.

Trusting in your husband to complete his tasks in the outside world, you lost yourself in your small reality that only existed in this house. You finished your breakfast, filled the kitchen sink with hot soapy water and completed the dishes. As they were drying, you did your routine check of the kitchen before moving onto the living room and the downstairs bathroom. You weren’t allowed in Levi’s study, so you kept the door firmly shut and ignored the itching curiosity to peek inside. Returning to the kitchen, you put away the dried dishes before proceeding upstairs to clean the master bedroom, the guest room, and the two bathrooms that occupied the second floor. Your housework had kept you busy, time creeping by until it was the evening, Levi should be home any second. 

Bustling around in the kitchen, you prepared dinner and waited for him to return. The tell-tale sound of the locks clicking to allow entry, followed by being locked once more when the two owners of the house were home again, echoed through the hallway to you. You greet Levi with a smile, the sleeves of your shirt hiding the forming bruises he had left from this morning’s incident, and you began to set the table. You kiss his lips, which he happily accepts, passing the bags of shopping to you. He had bought you a treat, his way of apologising for his behaviour this morning, which you gladly accept with a thank-you. You sit at the dinner table with him, digging in to the home cooked meal, there was little conversation- but the silence was welcomed. When the meal was finished, you placed the used dishes into the sink as Levi went upstairs to change for bed. 

By time you joined him on the second floor, Levi was in his night clothes and settled in bed. You smile at his peaceful state, his face void of any anxiety about attempted sleep and smooth with relaxation. You go to his side of the bed, bend at the waist, and press a loving hiss to his forehead. He tilts his head up, keeping his eyes closed, but you know what he wants. You press your lips to his, telling him with the action that you loved him. You move away from him, changing into your pyjamas and head into the connected bathroom. Placing your clothes into the hamper on top of Levi’s, you shut the woven basket lid and make a mental note to do some laundry tomorrow. 

Taking your position in front of the sink, you turn on the tap, letting the water wet the basin as you pick up your toothbrush and toothpaste. You began your routine with dental hygiene, knowing that Levi would be exasperated if you had neglected your teeth. He took this very seriously, if you hadn’t brushed your teeth he refused to even kiss your cheek, let alone your lips. With your mind in another place, your eyes stay unfocused on the you reflected in the mirror over the sink that was mounted on the wall. In the back of your head, there was a brief recognition that something wasn’t right. Unsure of what made you aware of the mistake, your actions become slower as your blood runs cold through your veins, your stomach dropping as your eyes train on your dominate hand clutching the toothbrush. Petrified to the spot in front of the mirror, your jaw goes slack as your mind recognises the mixture of saliva and toothpaste that tracked down your hand from your mouth. Your eyes flick from your own hand, seeing the white concoction slide over your skin, before flicking upwards to stare at your twin’s. 

Slightly faltering, your hand falls, pulling the toothbrush from your lips as you watched your reflection use their opposite hand. Terrified, you spit out the mixture, wipe away the mess you had created, and throw your toothbrush into its holder. Needing comfort from your husband, you hurriedly rush to the door and swing it open to enter your shared bedroom. Lurching forward, your eyes landing on the pair in your bed, your body halts as your heart beats rapidly against your chest. Confused to what your brain was processing, you studied Levi sleeping beside the woman in the bed beside him, his arms wrapped around her as she sleeps with her head resting on his bare chest. Completely and utterly baffled at what you were witnessing, the amount of emotions that were being integrated in your brain were added with a few more complex feelings when you recognised the woman to be yourself. 

Knees buckling under you from the crucial understanding, memories of this night came flooding back in a tsunami, the tidal wave causing you to fall to the carpeted floor as tears streamed from your eyes. Your lips part, attempting to cry out in a fruitless endeavour of a warning to yourself laying unaware in the bed, but all that leaves your voice box is a choked cry. Your chest constricts under the skin, an excruciating combination of a panic attack and a breakdown tearing you apart from the inside out. Pushing yourself backwards as you hear Levi start to move, your back hits against the closed bathroom door, blocking you from escape. The assault begins, you refuse to watch as Levi easily pins your body down against the mattress, and you begin to stir under him. You clamp your hands over your ears, screaming for him to stop as he takes his pillow and holds it over your face. You struggle under him, thrashing against his attack as he smothers you. 

Without air, the average person can last three minutes. Three minutes is an excruciating long amount of time and having to witness your husband murder you was enough to drive you to insanity. Whimpering pathetically, you stay where you are with your back pressed against the bathroom door, cold and shaking as you watched your body on the bed slow in movement, succumbing to the suffocation at the hands of your husband. Levi was whispering to your dying body, you slowly understood that his disorder had taken over, his medication no longer had an affect in buffering his delusions. He whispered to your still warm corpse that he loved you, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to take you away from him.  
Shaking uncontrollably, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your dead body, even when Levi leaves the room to deal with the aftermath of his actions. 

Dead fingers began to twitch, wrists rotating to get life back into them, and you wept as your deceased body began to sit up. Cocking your head from side to side, the bones creaking from the movement, you sob as you watch yourself leave the bed and approach you. Crouching in front of you, your other self offers you a ghost of a smile. Eyes blood shot from cause of death, they search yours for understanding. You hold out your hand to yourself, and you shakily accept it for comfort as you interlock your fingers.  
“Let’s forget about this, okay?” You ask yourself, earning a nod in return as the two of you close your eyes. Behind your closed eyes, there is a bright light and you feel the weight of your other self lessen as the two of you merge into one body. 

Blood rushed through your veins as the adrenaline kicked in, pumping in your ears so it was all that you could hear next to the overpowering beat of your heart thumping heavily against your chest. Sitting up too fast, your head spins along with the room and its contents until you cradled your head in your hands and forced yourself to become orientated. With your lips slightly parted, you exhaled in sharp and ragged breaths, only resulting in a continuation of the burning in your lungs. When your occipital lobes had reorganised itself with your optic nerves and the rest of your eyes, you peeked through the cracks of your fingers. Darting your vision from each area of your bedroom, your brain attempted to locate the reason for the triggering of your flight or fight response.


End file.
